


Random One-Shots

by Accio_Me



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Deathly Hallows, Future, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, Male Slash, Master of Death, Other, Resurrection Stone, Slash, Starstruck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accio_Me/pseuds/Accio_Me
Summary: This is a collection of one-shots that do not fit into the Jily or Drarry categories. The one-shots can also be two-shots or three-shots, which will be marked as linked chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 and 2 are part of one story. A third one may follow, I'm not sure yet.  
> Enjoy reading! :D

**The Three Hundred Year Old Stone**

Wandering through the forbidden forest at night was something not everyone would do solely for entertainment purposes. He could see dark shadows, some bigger than others, creep in between the trees, could hear the rustling of the dry leaves as his feet pushed them away or crushed them on the dry forest ground. But Jamie did not feel the fear anyone would feel once setting a foot over the border between Hogwarts' ground and the forest. Headmasters had preached for hundreds of years to never leave Hogwarts' grounds and travel into the forbidden forest, as it was, as the name already suggested, forbidden.

But every year there would be at least one group of students whose curiosity was far greater than merely being scared by the warnings of what creatures lived in the realms of the forest. They had to see them for themselves.

But even those students never again set a foot into the infamous forest once they had fully understood what dangers lived in it. Everyone would turn their back towards it, never even thinking of going anywhere near it ever again - everyone but the black-haired boy with light green eyes behind his square glasses. Jamie Ronald Potter had a very curious mind and so it led to him wandering through said forest at night, with the moon above, leading him the way.

The sixteen year old wizard didn't fear what could attack him in the forest. The Gryffindor hat read about magical animals not being able to hurt other animals, so he had done everything in his might to train to become a skilled Animagus. No-one knew of this talent, not even his parents, and he planned on keeping it that way. Once he was of age and graduated at Hogwarts, he told himself he would go to the Ministry and register himself as an Animagus, but before that moment came, he would keep it to himself and just enjoy the advantages that came with it.

Gazing up at the tree tops, he noticed that he had wandered far deeper into the forest than he had ever before. His dark eyebrows drew together. He knew he should turn around and continue his trip another night. It was getting late and he didn't know this part of the forest as well as the rest of it. It looked kind of familiar and yet not at all. Just like the rest of the forest.

He cursed loudly as he stumbled over a root sticking out of the earth. This part of the forest was wilder than the parts near the castle. Bushes and branches kept being in the way, causing him to stumble or fall.

He turned around and peaked at his foot. A particularly stubborn root had twisted itself around his ankle, gripping it tighter the more he struggled to get free.

He cursed loudly. He had heard of those plants. They had studied them in both History of Magic, as well as Herbology. It was said that these plants had been bred for a Triwizard Tournament that had taken place at Hogwarts hundreds of years ago, yet nobody had been so unfortunate as to actually encounter one of them.

" _Reducto_ ," he said, pointing his wand at a particularly annoying and slightly painful and certainly powerful plant that did its best to cut off the blood circulation of his foot. Satisfied and with a smirk, he watched the piece of offensive greenery blow up.

Picking himself off the floor, he brushed the dirt off his school uniform and set off again, deeper into the forest. After what felt like about half an hour, his feet stopped walking as he turned around slowly, trying to comprehend when he had entered unknown terrain, when he spotted a clearing a little distance away from him. The moon was illuminating the forest ground, able to get through the tree tops and onto the ground.

It looked eerie.

A loud rustling of dead leaves caught his attention. Knowing what creatures lived in the forest, he whirled around at just the right moment. An enormous spider sped up towards him, ready to kill. With a yelp, Jamie fumbled for his wand, reprimanding himself for not keeping it in his hand, ready to attack as one should be wandering the forest, and screamed the first spell that came to his mind. " _Reducio_!"

The spider shrank to the size of a plumb, running around helplessly at his feet. He cleared his throat and looked around. No-one was there. Jamie laughed weakly at that observation and eyed the small spider again. It stood right next to his left foot, obviously confused as to why everything looked so different than just a few seconds ago. Just that spider had been a witness of his not so manly squeal. He huffed. It wouldn't tell anyone.

"Right?" He watched the spider intently, as it began to walk to and fro in from of him, as if wanting to say " _What are you waiting for? Turn me back!"_

Jamie rolled his eyes and turned away. "Talking to a spider. Oh, please, Jamie! Really?"

His eyes narrowed again as the clearing got into his field of sight again, the miniature spider completely forgotten.

His curiosity getting the better of him, he set out to the clearing on front of him, when his foot hit something hard but small. He looked to the ground and frowned as he saw a black little stone roll away from its former spot and right into a pile of dead leaves. His knees hit the ground before he could actively make the decision to drop to the dirty forest floor. His hands started to pull and push leaves aside, looking for the dark stone. Something told him it wasn't just any stone and thus he sighed in relief as his fingers hit something solid in between the dry natural material.

The stone was small and boring looking. It was black, which was curious, and somewhat shaped like a jewel. Time and weather had had its toll on the stone's surface. It was dull.

Jamie turned it over in his hand and studied it carefully. Edges and little lines could be seen on its surface, under all the dirt of probably a couple of hundreds of years.

Carefully, he rubbed the stone against his cloak, trying to get some of the grime off.

The material the stone was made out of, Jamie found out, was not normal stone that could be found everywhere you went. It was of a deep black, so dark, it looked as if it swallowed all light around it. Turning it slowly in his hand, he could see fine lines engraved in the surface. Something pointy, like a triangle, maybe. A circle inside that triangle completed the picture with a neat cut right through its centre. It looked like it broke once and someone had tried to glue it together again.

Jamie pushed his glasses further up his nose as he continued to inspect the peculiar stone. He was sure it had once been part of a piece of jewellery. Little markings of metal holders defined the sides of the stone. But the symbol on the front was indeed strange, even for a piece of jewellery. He would have understood if vines had been engraves into the stone, or maybe even flowers or decorated letters of complicated looking names, but no geometrical symbols.

It reminded him of his Arithmancy homework that was currently sitting on a table in the common room, back in Hogwarts castle, patiently waiting for his return.

He sighed as he turned his eyes back to the stone in his hand. He turned it a third time to look at the engravings from a different angle, as he suddenly heard soft footsteps walking towards him, getting louder.

His head jerked up, panicked that it might be another Acrumantula. He froze. It wasn't an Acrumantula staring at him. It wasn't even a magical creature. It was a human.

He gulped as his green eyes looked into identically green eyes - the eyes of his great-great-grandfather.

*~*HP*~*

Harry blinked.

He had just been sitting at the coffee table at his parents' house, having tea with his family when suddenly and with a none too pleasant jerk he had been ripped away.

He turned around slowly as his eyes started to get used to the unexpected change of lighting and studied his surroundings. He seemed to be standing in a forest. How peculiar.

He frowned as he eyed the trees, their height, their strength... It all seemed so familiar, but why?

He sniffed as a small spider ran past him, hurriedly hiding between the leaves of a nearby bush. His eyes travelled over the trunks of the trees, over bushes and ferns, as he spotted an all too familiar clearing. He sighed as a shudder ran through him. He would never forget this spot of the forbidden forest, as he reckoned. He would never forget that night and the fear, the pounding of his heart as he waited for the most evil wizard the world had ever seen point his wand at him, smiling satisfied and speak the words he had both welcomed and feared.

He raised his hand to his eyes and rubbed. That couldn't be happening. Why was he here? Why was he back in this forest? His fingers ran through his hair, gripped at the roots and pulled none too gently.

An unsettling feeling made itself known in the pit of his stomach. This felt wrong. It felt so wrong to be back. His very being bridled at being in this world. His blood felt as if it stilled in his veins. His muscles felt stiff, his bones were aching.

He jerked his head to the right and pulled at his hair. He had never felt that way before and the fact that he did not know why he was back or why he felt that way was unnerving.

He blinked rapidly. He had to think! He had to keep his calm and analyze his situation. If Hermione would have been by his side, she would have already started to try to solve this riddle.

He shook his head. A nervous feeling trickled under his skin and he scratched his head and neck again.

He was in the forbidden forest for whatever reason, it was night and he was _not_ feeling well. Was he some kind of ghost, damned to roam the earth forever? No, that couldn't be the case. He had died a little over two hundred years ago and he had been in the afterlife! He had made his choice to not stay behind as a ghost and everyone that had died knew that this was a conscious choice. There was no way that he was a real ghost, then. But why was he back at the place of his nightmares?

Soft rustling ripped him out of his panicked reveries. Frowning, Harry turned around and his eyes found a huddled figure on the ground just a few metres away from him.

Taking a hesitant step forward, he forced his heavy legs to move. The figure jumped and jerked their head up and towards him.

It was a boy, maybe sixteen years old, wearing what looked like a slightly different looking Hogwarts school uniform. Harry narrowed his eyes as he took in the image before him. The boy had dark, messy hair, slim features and eyes that he only knew too well. He gasped as bright green eyes stared into his.

*~*HP*~*

He had seen pictures of him, seen hundreds of years old memories and learned everything about the war hero, the Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Conquered, the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He had heard hundreds of stories about his ancestor, whose fame was so great even now that it had bathed him in it as well. People knew him because of who his ancestor was.

But hearing or reading about the famous Harry James Potter was something entirely different than seeing him standing right in front of him, staring at him with his mouth open.

Jamie tried to swallow, but his mouth was far too dry. He opened his mouth to say something - _anything_ \- but he couldn't think of anything of slight intelligence. He couldn't remember the amount of times he had wished to meet him. He had planned for this fantastical moment, although he had been sure it would never come. Countless times the most powerful wizards and witches had met and tried to summon the hero, but every time their tries had failed. Summoning someone as powerful as Harry Potter required so much magical energy that it had not yet been successful.

But now, seeing him right there in front of him, he didn't know what to say. All of the questions he had wanted to ask his ancestor, all of the things he had wanted to tell him - gone. His brain was completely empty.

"Who are you?"

Jamie nearly fainted.

The voice was _there_! He could _hear_ him! He could _see_ him talking. He could _feel_ the immense power that radiated off of him... It was mind-blowing. So he just sat there, staring at a slightly uncomfortable looking Harry Potter and could do nothing more. His lips moved as he tried to answer the question, but his brain couldn't function well enough to actually bring his mouth to form the sentence.

Harry Potter raised an amused eyebrow and blinked down at him. "Well?"

"I-I..."

Jamie turned beet red. What must the great Harry Potter think of him? It was obvious that they were related. He had to see it as well. _Oh Merlin, this is so embarrassing!_

"Why don't you take a deep breath and tell me who you are?" He said in a kind voice as Jamie was too busy feeling ashamed to properly reply to his question.

A shaky laugh and a deep breath later, Jamie managed to connect his brain to his vocal chords long enough to formulate a somewhat decent answer.

"I- I'm Jamie P-Potter, Sir."

Harry winced as he heard the nervousness in the boy's voice.

"Please call me Harry," he said as he slowly sat down next to the nervous Gryffindor, as he spotted with a sudden wave of pride. "I feel old whenever people call me 'Sir'."

"Yes, Sir. I-I mean," he hastily added as Harry raised a dark eyebrow at him, "Harry."

The Chosen One smiled and nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the fidgeting boy next to him. He bit back a chuckle. "So, I guess we're related then." He grinned and made a vague hand gesture towards Jamie who started smiling as well.

"You are my great-great-grandfather. Mum and Dad have told me so much about you! Before my grandma died, she and my uncle used to tell me stories about the war and what it was like back then."

Harry nodded slowly, a reminiscent smile on his features. "Emily and Marc?"

Jamie gasped and his eyes widened as Harry started laughing softly. "Yeah, those two always have been really interested in the war. Used to bug me about it every time they came for a visit. They still do, come to think of it."

Jamie couldn't do more than stare in awe at the young man beside him, who looked not much older than him. "This is so weird." He would have kicked himself in the arse for that stunt, but, surprisingly, Harry started laughing loudly.

"Right you are, Jamie! There I was, having tea with my family when I got ripped away and into this very forest that I only remember too well." His smile faltered as his eyes travelled over to the clearing in the distance. "How have you managed to summon me anyway?" With a tinge of curiosity in his soft voice, the dead man turned around and focused his unnerving bright green stare at identical eyes, which lightened up almost immediately.

"I honestly have no idea," he said as he studied his great-great-grandfather before him. "I found this stone and just looked at it and then there you were." He held the stone that he was still holding onto out for inspection and saw a glimmer of recognition in Harry's eyes.

"I didn't think I'd ever see that stone ever again," he muttered more to himself as he leaned forward and inspected the stone carefully. "You turned it three times, didn't you?"

"I-," Jamie frowned as he looked down at the black jewel-like rock in his hand and back towards Harry, who was studying him with a look of interest. "Yeah, I think I did. Why? What does this stone do?"

Harry's smile turned sad as his eyes searched for something in Jamie's. "This is not just any stone," he said in a low voice, gesturing towards the piece of black rock in the boy's hand. "What you're holding is called The Resurrection Stone. I have used and dropped it right here, just moments before I went onto that clearing." He pointed at the eerie clearing in front of them, a haunted expression darkening his features.

"What is a resurrection stone?" Jamie asked, frowning slightly.

"The Resurrection Stone is one of the three Deathly Hallows." He narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied his descendant closely. Jamie's eyes lightened up and he turned his gaze back towards the stone with new fascination. "I guess you have heard of those."

"I have," his voice was a mere whisper as he turned his big eyes back to his sad looking grandfather. "Does that mean I can talk to you whenever I like? Does that mean I can talk to Grandma and Grandpa and my sister Amy?"

Slowly, Harry shook his head and watched as Jamie slumped back. "What this stone does is not natural," Harry said, trying to make the boy understand. "It does not bring people back from the dead. There is no such spell or object that can do that."

"But you're here, aren't you? You are dead and yet you are here, talking to me."

Harry sighed and tried to think of a way to explain it. "Have you heard of the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

Confused, Jamie nodded.

"The three brothers were the first ones to call the Deathly Hallows their own - Ignotus, Antioch and Cadmus Peverell. Cadmus was the one owning the stone - _this stone._ And do you know what happened to him after using the stone too often?"

Jamie nodded slowly and turned his gaze back to the infamous object in his hand.

"You see, it may give you the illusion that you have brought someone you love back to life, but that isn't the case. I have used it in that night as well, to give me strength for what I had to do back then."

The boy's head snapped up as he stared at his ancestor.

"I know what it feels like, seeing the people you love and miss the most return to life. But dwelling on things like that is not good for you! For that reason I dropped the stone all those years ago and never went back looking for it."

"But being dead..."

"A wise man once told me 'Don't pity the dead. Pity the living.' I think I now know what he meant." Harry smiled and put his hand over Jamie's shoulder, keeping a small space between his hand and the boy's shoulder. He was sure the young Gryffindor felt it nevertheless.

"But I have so much I want to ask you!" He exclaimed, getting desperate.

"And you will have the opportunity to do so, just not now. Your time will come, young Jamie, but it will take numerous years until we will see each other on the other side."

Jamie blinked rapidly as he felt moisture gather in his eyes. Harry smiled.

"Let go, Jamie. We will see each other again. I promise."

*~*HP*~*

It didn't feel right to let go of the stone that promised so much. It didn't feel right to not explore its possibilities, to not use it go summon all his loved ones, to see them once again. To say goodbye.

But watching his great-great-grandfather before him, he knew he was right. He had dropped the stone for a reason and whatever reason that had been, he somehow knew he had made the right choice in letting it being forgotten.

So, gathering his courage and trying to swallow down the pain, he shot Harry Potter one last look. The messy haired wizard smile at him and nodded, pride shining in his eyes. This was the right thing to do. He would see him again in the future and until then he had the memories.

So, with a deep, sad sigh, he opened his hand and let the stone drop into the dead leaves on the forest's ground.

The last thing he saw was Harry Potter's proud smile, promising hope, before he vanished into nothingness.


	2. The White Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of "The Three Hundred Year Old Stone."  
> Enjoy reading!

**The White Forest**

Jamie Potter groaned as he rubbed his back. He had no idea what had just happened, he had no idea where he was, he had no idea why he was hurting all over, he just knew that he was confused and very much so.

A mean twinge told him that his back wasn’t quite right, but he wasn’t a healer – nowhere near even _becoming_ a healer, mind you, so he wouldn’t even be able to start guessing why his spine felt as if it had been close to being ripped into at least two pieces.

He grumbled and bit back a groan as he organised his long limbs into what resembled a somewhat stable position and pushed himself off the ground. Which was white. _What the_...

He blinked, confused, as his green eyes travelled over his surroundings – or the lack thereof. He was standing in... nothing. A white nothing. What _the actual hell_ was going on? Where was everyone? Where was _earth_?! Where was a normal ground you could walk on like grass, cobble or even dirt? Oh, what he would give to see dirt right about now.

Scratching his neck, he raised his hand to push back his glasses – a tick that he did whenever he felt nervous or unsure of a situation. And to call _this_ a situation was the only thing that warranted this action, so...

Where were his glasses? He groaned out loud, running his hands over his spectacle-free face. This was wrong. This was _so_ wrong. He never went anywhere without his glasses because he was _literally blind_ without their help. Even with them perching on top of his long, straight nose, he was prone to fall over everything that threw itself into his way and before his stumbling feet, even it he had seen said obstacle beforehand. But, Jamie figured, there wasn’t much to stumble over anyway, so it probably didn’t even matter if he had his glasses on him or not.

As if on cue, something small and rectangular fell out of the sky – if there _was_ a sky, he wasn’t entirely sure – and hit him against the crown of his head. He cursed. That had hurt. He down and picked up his spectacles. Shrugging, he put them onto his nose, deciding that he should just stop thinking at all. He had no idea where he was, why he was wherever he was and what was going on, so it didn’t really do him any good to also dwell on how his spectacles came flying at him, causing his head to probably bruise and swell in an ugly way.

He sniffed. It would maybe help if he moved? Maybe? His legs were starting to ache from just standing there, in the middle of nothing, so maybe by walking for a bit he would actually be able to find _something_ in all of this nothing.

Figuring that would be his best option, he raised his right foot and started walking straight forward. He’d have to get somewhere eventually by walking only in one direction, right? Right. He’d try.

It felt as if he had been walking for hours as he saw what looked like big silhouettes in the distance. Had he actually found something that would tell him where he was?

He broke into a light jog, eager to reach his new destination. After a while, his tired eyes could make out what he had seen. It was a forest. A _white_ forest. What in the holy name of Merlin was that supposed to mean? First of all, why was there, all of a sudden, a forest in front of him? He had been walking for hours on end. _If_ he had been walking for hours on end... he couldn’t say for sure whether that was actually the case since he didn’t have a watch on him. He never wore a watch. Right about now he would’ve needed one, he thought, immediately regretting it as yet another small, and painfully hard, object zoomed out of the sky, aiming at his head and hitting its target at the exact same spot that was still tender from the previously falling pair of spectacles.

“Ouch!” James cried out as he glared through the tears forming in his eyes at a small and innocent looking watch lying next to his left foot. He grumbled as he bent to pick it up. The motion made his beautifully forming bruise throb painfully.

The young man stared flabbergasted at the time-measuring device in his hand. This had to be a sick joke. The hands of the watch were whirling around crazily fast, not able to agree on a time. He groaned, throwing his head back, glaring at the sky. Why was this happening to him? What had he done to deserve this? Hadn’t he always been a nice guy, always helping others whenever he could? Well, so much for the bloody karma, he though dejectedly. Might as well keep the watch, even if it was just to spite whoever was having a blast throwing things at him from Merlin knew where.

He sighed and pushed his unruly hair out of his face. His eyes straight ahead, he decided to not give a shit anymore and to just continue walking and to _not_ wish for _anything_ anymore anytime soon. At least not until he had figured out where he was and who was playing this prank at him.

Wait a second...

“Oh, I wish I knew where I was and how I got here.”

Silence was what followed his slightly echoing voice. Nothing. Go figure.

So he continued onwards, directing his steps over to the order of the eerily white and sterile looking forest. The trees’ bark felt too smooth, its temperature too high and the ground that was supposed to crunch under the soles of his shoes felt as if walking on wet moss, not making any sounds whatsoever. He couldn’t hear the voices or movements of small or big animals hiding, in fear of their life or in preparation of attack. Nothing. It was eerily quiet. It was _too_ quiet to be a real forest.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie summoned his Gryffindor courage and moved further into the “forest.” Trees surrounded him, ferns that were normally wet and an annoying stumbling-trap wrapped around his ankle without causing him to trip, which was weird enough. His fingers graced the bark of the trees around him, feeling their oddly smooth surface as his eyes spotted something in the distance.

Colour. He could see colour!

His heart beat picked up and thumbed strongly and steadily in his chest, forcing him onwards. This had to be it, it told himself as he pushed twigs of wild, white bushes out of the way, this just _had_ to be it! This had to be something real.

He broke out into a run, eager to reach this new place of hope. The warm air rushed through his hair without moving it too much. Jamie didn’t stop to dwell on that since nothing seemed to be normal around here.

Huffing, he stumbled to a surprised halt in the middle of a clearing. The grass was green and swayed softly in a warm breeze. Roots of the trees surrounding the meadow were pushing out of the ground here and there, giving this spot a wild and unruly feel.

Something in him twitched. He knew this place. He had been here before.

Blinking his green eyes, he slowly spun around, taking in his new location. The trees were of an earthy tone, some healthily light brown, some of a darker, more aged brown. Their leaves showed a rich, deep green colour, waving at him metres above his head.

This was so weird.

James slowly shook his head, perplexed. He had to find clues as to where he was and how he could get back home. He didn’t care about the _how did he get here_ -part anymore. That wasn’t important. All he wanted was to feel less confused and to know – or at least get an idea as to – how he would get back home to his family. His wife must be worried sick by now, not to mention the kids and their kids. He was supposed to pick the youngest up from her play date today. He couldn’t be missing that! He would be in a lot of trouble if he did. A lot was at stake here, namely his health and wellbeing.

His feet carried him over the clearing and back into the forest. Some type of plant wrapped itself around his ankle, making him nearly fall to the ground. So much for not tripping. He cursed and searched for his only way of cutting through this Merlin-forsaken piece of greenery – his trusty wand.

...Where was his wand?

He tucked helplessly at the spiky root which continued to merrily squeeze the blood out of his foot.

This couldn’t be happening. It all felt eerily like a déjà-vu. What in the name of Merlin and his freshly washed pair on underwear was happening here and where in the throne room of Satan himself was his bloody wand?!

Before he even realised what he had just done, he could hear a – by now – known sound of yet another falling belonging that hit him exactly on the huge bruise that was decorating the top of his head.

“Ouch! For the love of-“

“Language, young man!”

Jamie froze. He knew that voice. At least it sounded familiar, like something heard a very long time ago and nearly forgotten.

He squeezed his eyes shut shortly, taking a deep breath and taking comfort from the feeling of his wand’s smooth wood in his hand. Calling into his memory that he had once been sorted into the Hogwarts House of the brave, he forced his body to slowly turn around, accepting the fact that this person had the advantage in a possible fight. But, he thought as he felt the vine twist tighter around his ankle and his foot to start tingling from lack of circulation, he could’ve already attacked him if he had wanted to. Keeping that thought in mind to calm his racing heart, he waited for the stranger to move into his field of sight.

Which he did.

In front of him stood none other than Harry James Potter himself, smiling sadly as he watched his great-great-grandson both struggle with the nasty plant and keep a somewhat dignified facial expression.

“I had hoped I wouldn’t see you for another thirty years at least,” he said, voice low, as he pointed his own wand at Jamie’s foot, releasing it from the deathly grip of the throttling vine as Jamie had dubbed it in his head. “That wasn’t meant to sound so ungrateful. I hope you know what I mean by that.”

Jamie, still unable to fully comprehend that he was, again, standing face to face with _the_ Harry Potter, nodded slowly.

Harry smiled. He had his arms crossed over his chest, watching his descendant with an intense gaze. “You didn’t go looking for the stone again.”

Jamie blinked stupidly at his ancestor. That hadn’t been a question but a statement. He thought that he detected something akin to pride and relief in his tone, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Y-You told me n-not to,” he stuttered, eyes shining with excitement.

His great-great-grandfather nodded, his lips twitching, amused. “That I did, but that doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t have looked for it if you really wanted to.”

The younger of the two gaped at his smirking ancestor, fully knowing that he was right, but still feeling the need to disagree.

“Would not!”

“Oh yes, you would have.”

Jamie huffed, feeling a weird mixture of the annoyance that came whenever a parent was right and the excitement of finally being able to talk to Harry Potter again, on top of that actually being praised by him.

“I was young once as well, you know?” Harry laughed and pushed a hand through his hair, a gesture that Jamie had watched him do in so many recorded and stored memories. He felt giddy. “I know the pull that curiosity has and what consequences can come with it.”

A comfortable silence enveloped the two of them, giving them both time to watch the opposite. Jamie still couldn’t believe who he was seeing and actually talking to. After that one moment all those years ago, back when he had made it his habit to stroll through the Forbidden Forest alone, daring every beast to attack him so that he could transform into his animal counterpart and just be a part of the nature surrounding him, he had always wondered about what would happen if he just went back and looked for that stone again. The Resurrection Stone, Harry had called it. A third of what made one The Master of Death.

There had only been one Master of Death, as for as he remembered from History of Magic, namely the exact same man who was watching the surroundings with a calm air about him.

“Wait a minute,” Harry turned back to Jamie and raised his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue his thought. “You being here, talking to me... does that mean that I’m...”

James trailed off, taking in the forest they were standing in. The tall, slender trees with their huge crowns of dark green leaves, the ferns covering the ground, the clearing behind him, _the bloody vine that nearly cut off his foot_... He groaned as every single piece of information put itself together to form one big picture. He was in the Forbidden Forest. Judging from how he got here to how the forest first looked like, though, he figured that they were nowhere near Hogwarts castle.

“Where exactly are we?” he asked, finally voicing the question out loud that had been bothering him for quite some time now. He glanced at his watch that rested against his left wrist. Its hands still twirled crazily as if they were planning on taking off.

“We are in the Forbidden Forest, it looks like.”

Jamie stared at Harry, who looked around him with a mildly interested expression on his face.

After a short while, James shook his head viciously, forcing himself to focus and ask, “yeah, but where are we really?”

Harry’s lips formed a knowing smile as he watched his opposite closely, eyes narrowed slightly. “We’re in the In-Between.”

Jamie blinked. _In-Between?_ What was that supposed to mean?

“It means,” Harry said after his confused descendant voiced his thoughts out loud, “that this is where you end up before moving on into the Afterlife if you choose to do so.”

Jamie’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly. Did that mean that... that... “I’m dead?”

Harry smiled sadly and nodded his head, still keeping his alert gaze on the younger wizard.

Jamie frowned. No, that couldn’t be. Why was he dead? He hadn’t even been able to celebrate his 67th birthday. It was his turn to pick up Elize from her play date today. What if no-one showed up to get her? What if she had to wait for her grand-ma to come by and pick her up instead? What would his family think?

“How?”

Exhaling slowly, Harry raised his head and looked his great-great-grandson in the eyes. “You had a heart attack, son,” he said in a low voice, letting the chirping voices of bird carry his words and take the horrific meaning with them. “I don’t know why, but I know that even though wizards tend to lead a longer life than Muggles, there are still some cases in which the life is cut short unexpectedly. I’m sorry.”

Jamie looked at him, feeling oddly empty. He didn’t know what to think, what to do. He knew that what’d done was done and that he couldn’t do anything about it, but knowing that you were dead and that you would not see your family for a very long time was... weird. It felt wrong.

“I really hoped that I would still have to wait another thirty years at least to see you again, but not even I have that kind of power,” he smirked, seeing the overwhelmed expression on his grandson’s face. “I know, I know, some people say stuff like that.”

Jamie let out an unexpected bark of laughter. Harry grinned at him, eyes sparkling.

This was weird, yet oddly fascinating. “Is it horrible to be kind of excited about it, though?” he asked, looking to the ground with an ashamed blush darkening his cheeks. Harry’s eyebrows jumped up in question. “I mean, I didn’t want to die. I still don’t want to be dead, but I can’t really change that, can I? So...”

“You can ask me all of those questions as soon as I have asked you one, son.”

Jamie raised his head and looked into those eerily identical bright green eyes of his opposite. Just as all those years ago, he could literally feel power radiating off of this man who was standing there, in the middle of a replica of the Forbidden Forest, hands hanging at his sides, relaxed. His face showed nothing but curiosity as he took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes.

“There is one option that each and every one who passes on has. It is a conscious decision that everyone only gets once. Once your decision is made, once your mind is made up, there is no turning back.” Harry waited for his words to sink in before he continued speaking.

“As you know, ghosts exist. Hogwarts is full of them, but not only magical places and locations harbour those beings but Muggle houses do as well. Non-magical people are not able to see ghosts that exist purely because of the magic that their world was surrounded by. You have to know that these ghosts have made one thing differently than, for example, me. They gave a different answer to the question I am about to ask you.”

Jamie nodded, listening intently.

“When you die, you get to choose whether you want to hold onto your human life on earth or whether you decide to let it all go and live what your life has become. The ghosts at Hogwarts decided to still be a part of the life on earth and roam it for all eternity. They aren’t alive and they cannot continue their lives, but they can be a part of those they witness. For them, it is impossible to fully move on into the afterlife as their mind was too intertwined and focussed on the physical world to fully accept their own death.

“I, for example, or my parents, even your sister Amy have chosen the other path. We have accepted what has happened to us and that it is no good for either us or the ones we leave behind to dwell on what was and what could have been if we had continued to live. We decided to move on into the afterlife, leaving everything that connected us to our human life behind us.”

Harry fell silent, but didn’t take his eyes off of Jamie as the latter tried to comprehend what the former had just said.

“So,” Jamie’s eyebrows drew together in concentration, “I have to decide whether I want to come back as a ghost or move on fully?”

A soft smile graced Harry’s young features as the man nodded.

“What if I don’t want to decide that yet?”

“Then we will have to stay here until you feel ready to decide.”

“That could be an awfully long time.”

A knowing smirk washed over his ancestor’s face as he eyed the younger man. “Indeed, an awfully long time that could be.”

“I see.” Jamie grinned at Harry, who’s eyes were sparkling with humour. “Well, then. Since all of the people I know decided one way, I would feel like an idiot choosing the other way.”

“But you wouldn’t be able to see you family anymore who are still alive,” Harry said, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.

“I will see them again eventually, though, right? Just as you said all those years ago in the forest,” Jamie gestured to the trees around them, “I’ll get to see them again in the future.”

Harry smiled knowingly. “Is that your final decision then?”

Standing up to his full height, Jamie felt oddly official when he looked straight at his relaxed ancestor, one he slowly got used to talking to – although it was still quite fascinating and kind of frightening when he stopped and thought about _who_ he was really talking to – and nodded, very sure of what he was about to say. “I want to move on. I won’t come back as a ghost. I don’t want to be one of those creeps who float through the wall of a bathroom, scaring the living daylights out of those who just need a few minutes of private time.”

Harry laughed out loud and pushed himself off of the tree. “Very well, then. Let’s get you home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I'm not sure whether a third part will follow. Let me know whether you want one or not.  
> Until next time - see ya :D


	3. Making Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an old one. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I didn't check it for them. #lazy  
> Disclaimer: This chapter contains slash. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thanks!  
> Now that we got that out of the way - enjoy!

**Making Memories**

"Lord Voldemort is getting stronger and stronger as we speak. We have to be prepared for the worst."

The silence that followed was absolute.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix sat at a huge wooden table, side by side, turned towards their leader Albus Dumbledore, trying to absorb the news they just received.

They were no idiots. Of course they knew that Voldemort had returned and was gaining power with every passing minute in which they discussed what their next step should be. But the elderly wizard had never spoken it out loud before. Voldemort was back and he was summoning his forces to start the next war over the wizarding world.

"What happened, Albus?" Molly Weasley's voice trembled slightly.

She was afraid. Afraid not only for herself and her husband, but for her eight children, biological and practically adopted.

Albus Dumbledore sighed.

"I am certain that every one of you has heard about the mass breakout of Azkaban," he said in a quiet voice, eyes travelling over his faithful followers and friends.

They nodded.

"Well, you see, Voldemort not only managed to break out all of his imprisoned followers, but succeeded in convincing most of the Dementors to join him in his plan to rid the world of every Muggle and Muggleborn alive."

His words were met by shocked silence. Standing up slowly, he braced his hands on the wooden surface of the sturdy old table as he looked in every one of the shocked and frightened looking faces before him.

"You may think that this could turn out to be a problem -"

" _Could turn out to be a problem?_ " Sirius Black laughed bitterly and looked sceptically towards the leader of the Light. "We just lost a few thousand of probably one of the darkest species of magical creatures there is. Of course, it's going to be a problem. A bloody huge one!"

Most Order members nodded their heads and started whispering. Voldemort's army was steadily growing and they remained the same number of members, losing some in battle, causing their numbers to slowly but steadily decrease. Not allowing wizards and witches that wanted to fight into the organization was suicide.

"We have to recruit more people, Dumbledore," the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt cut through the excited chatter of whispers. "Not only those with enough experience, but those who are willing to risk their lives for Magical Great Britain."

"He is right, Albus," ex-Auror Alastor Mad-Eye Moody boomed into the room. "Possibly even volunteers who are yet to turn seventeen."

Molly jumped up on her feet, beet red, and glared at the eccentric man.

"I won't allow any of my other children to join the Order! Not Ginny, not Ron, or Harry or Fred and George -"

"Molly, dear," her husband put a gentle hand on her shoulder and pushed her back onto her chair. "Fred and George are old enough. They can do whatever they like."

"They are just children," she hissed, tears threatening to spill. "I don't want them to risk their lives if they have a chance not to."

"Molly," Arthur wrapped his arm around her trembling form and hugged her gently. "Let _them_ decide."

Dumbledore cleared his throat to focus the attention back on the most pressing matter - Voldemort.

"That is something we have enough time to discuss later on. But we have more severe problems at the moment - problems that need to be solved or at least lessened. Therefore I ask every single one of you to be on guard. No one is to leave the house alone, let alone by night time, unless someone knows what they are planning and where they are going. Furthermore, the press is to be informed, for it may make a small difference in the community to be aware of the current situation. Last but not least, I wish that everyone in the Order, as well as their families are able to perform a full and powerful corporal Patronus, as that spell is the only meaning of self-defence when it comes to a Dementor."

*~*SBRL*~*

"Try again," Remus Lupin leaned against the wall of the old library at Grimmauld Place, a small frown on his face.

"I can't! Don't you get it? It's not working," Sirius yelled frustrated.

He stared at his wand which Dumbledore had managed to rescue from the clutches of the Ministry of Magic. It was his first ever wand that had never managed to fail him before - until now. But it seemed that although Azkaban was his past now, it never fully let him go.

"Just try it again, Padfoot," Remus said patiently, smiling inwardly. _Sirius has always been one of the impatient ones,_ he thought fondly, only to jump as said person screamed frustrated and let himself fall onto an old, dark green couch.

"Okay, let's begin from the beginning," Remus sat down next to his best friend.

Sirius grumbled.

"First, you need to choose a happy memory. One that fills you with so much happiness and contentment that you can literally feel it in your very being."

Remus tried his best to stifle a laugh as he saw the man's facial expression.

"Close your eyes. Concentrate."

Sirius sighed and did as he was told. _Why the hell not. Can't get any worse, can it?_

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Sirius tried to concentrate on the few happy memories in his life, most of which were with the Marauders.

"Very good. Now listen to my voice and my voice only. Happy memories are memories that fill you with positive feelings, feelings that have the power to overpower the Dark. Search for them. Look at every memory that plops into your head and try to assess its value."

Remus' soft voice was the only thing he heard. Its slightly rough undertone, its intelligent way to formulate a sentence, its warmth that somehow managed to seep deep into him, to warm him and make him feel protected.

He followed that feeling, let it overflow him, control him, lead him to his happy memories. He felt himself being enveloped by the warmth, waiting for the happiness to arrive and make him feel complete - vainly.

He started to get desperate. Somewhere. They had to be _somewhere_! He looked in every corner, in every _oh so_ tiny slit his mind created. The labyrinth of his thoughts getting tighter and more confusing the more he searched.

He screwed up his face, beads of sweat began to gather at his hair line. He had to find them!

*~*SBRL*~*

Remus smiled as Sirius closed his eyes and relaxed, only listening to his voice.

Even back in the old days, when he, Sirius, James and Pettigrew had been at Hogwarts, barely knowing each other, he had found it fascinating how easily Sirius managed to trust others. Later on, as James had told him how Sirius' life had used to be, the fascination had turned into awe. Sirius, being such a nice, loyal and trusting boy having to live through the hell his childhood used to be and still being _himself_. Even after Hogwarts, life hadn't treated him well - the war influencing one's very way of living, of looking at people, his friends, no, _family_ dying because of what he had suggested, followed by over a decade of Azkaban, a living hell.

Remus hadn't noticed that sometime during his reverie, Sirius had grabbed his hand which he now squashed like he wanted it as flat as a piece of parchment.

His brows were furrowed; drops of sweat ran over his temples.

Gasping, Sirius opened his eyes, without realising his vice grip on Remus.

Puffing out his breath, he swiped over his damp skin.

"Nothing," he said, turning his head to Remus who was watching him intensely. "There is absolutely nothing. Not one small happy memory that could be strong enough to even let me conjure a silver mist. Not one."

Remus watched his friend as he put his head in his hands, repeating the word over and over again. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Azkaban had damaged him more than he could have possibly guessed.

*~*SBRL*~*

Thundering down the stairs, Sirius just barely missed the door to the kitchen and hit the wall face first. Scowling and rubbing his tender nose, he tried to find his Godson among the laughing redheads who had just arrived for the second half of the summer holiday.

Finding the messy raven-black hair among fiery red was not that difficult.

Harry grinned at Sirius, as he threw himself into his Godfather's embrace.

"I missed you," he whispered softly, hugging his father's best friend tightly.

"I missed you too, pup."

Sirius held Harry an arm's length, eyeing him from parting to toe. He hadn't changed much. Hair as messy as ever, grin as brilliant as ever, reminding him of his brother and sister as much as ever - maybe a little more so - and being about six inches taller than the last time he had seen him.

"In the name of Merlin's finest underpants, you have grown quite a bit!"

Harry laughed and hugged him again.

Remus stood in the doorway and watched the scene before him with a sad smile. He knew how much Sirius missed James and he knew how much it hurt him to both see and not see James' son. Either way, hurting Padfoot got easier with time and that hurt Remus probably more than Sirius knew.

"Professor Lupin!"

Remus jerked out of his dark thoughts and smiled lovingly at his dead best friend's son.

"How many times have I told you to call me Remus, Harry?" He opened his arms and Harry went over to him to give him a light hug.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking anything but sorry. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Alright everyone! Grab your trunks and put them into your rooms. We don't want the whole kitchen to be cluttered up like that."

Molly Weasley pushed herself through her loud children, as they began to drag their trunks in the stairs' direction, chattering and laughing loudly.

"Sirius, Remus, it's good to see you."

Sirius smiled and gave her a light kiss on her cheek. He may not agree with the way she sometimes treated Harry, but he knew that Harry somewhat saw her as a mother figure, so he knew to shut up.

"You too, Molly. I'm glad, Dumbledore agreed with the kids coming over."

Smiling, Molly put her own bag down next to the kitchen table, pushing a strand of bright red hair out of her slightly sooty face.

"Of course, he would allow it," she said, smiling at Arthur as he picked up her luggage and started carrying the bags upstairs. "It's safe here, isn't it? _And_ it's the Order's headquarters, so what better protection for Harry than the whole Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yeah..." Sirius tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace to him. "The Order... Of course."

*~*SBRL*~*

"It just isn't working."

The wand slipped out of Sirius hand, clattering on the floor.

He was a mess. He had tried to re-learn the spell for the last two hours and twelve pieces of chocolate, one hand full of pulled out hair and a near mental breakdown later, Sirius could perform the spell as well as before - which was not very good.

His hair stood on edge, rebelling against the usually neat order he so fiercely protected, his hands were trembling and his determination was in danger of vanishing into oblivion.

Remus scratched his unshaven chin. This was going to be difficult. The Dementors and literally sucked every bit of joy and positive feelings out of Sirius, leaving behind a bitter, desperate shell of what used to be a hilarious, joyful young man.

But he knew what Sirius needed. And he knew that, if they just worked on it, they would succeed. Maybe not tomorrow, or even next week, but sooner rather than later, they would accomplish this task.

He just knew it.

*~*SBRL*~*

 _Glaring at this damn thing won't set in on fire,_ he thought grumpily, as he stood in front of the old family tree tapestry in the former office of his father.

How many times had he wished - and tried - to blast this whole thing off the wall, he did not know. It was still hanging there stubbornly as if his parents' past in this house held it there. Which was probably the case. They had most likely put some sticking charms on the back of it to make sure no one - not even their own son - would be able to dislocate it and possibly throw it away.

His eyes wandered over the names of the witches and wizards who where cursed with the surname Black. As he reached the slightly sooty spot where his mother had burned him out of the family tree, he smiled. _Ah, what a wonderful moment that was._

Hearing soft footsteps behind him, he turned around to see Remus walking up to him, a smile on his gentle face.

Sirius smirked and pointed at the tapestry. "Just checking whether it's still as ugly as it was the last time I set foot in this house." He grimaced as the memory of that fateful night plopped up before his inner eye.

"I know what you mean," Remus came to a stop right next to him and gazed up at the ancient piece of cloth on the wall. "It still is, isn't it?"

Laughing bitterly, Sirius nodded. "Unfortunately."

Remus chuckled and turned towards the man beside him. Sirius was watching him intently.

"What is it?"

Blinking, Sirius shook his head and turned his gaze back to the family tree.

"It's nothing," he mumbled quietly, trying to hide the blush that started to creep up to his cheeks. Had he just stared at Remus for no good reason and was _blushing_ because he caught him looking? _I just lost track of thoughts and he just happened to be the last thing I was looking at. Yeah... That has to be it_. But what was the warm, fussy feeling he felt in his stomach? He knew that feeling... But from where?

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" A small voice said from the doorway.

Sirius jumped, but before he could open his mouth to reply, Remus put a smile on his face and went out of the room.

"You're not interrupting anything, Harry. I'll let you two alone," he said, closing the door gently behind him.

Harry sent him a shy smile, running a nervous hand through his messy hair.

"I really didn't mean to interrupt..."

"You didn't interrupt anything, Harry," Sirius said, taking a deep breath to calm down his heartbeat. "What do you have on your mind that brings you here?"

Harry took a hesitant step into the room. His eyes fell on the tapestry and his brows shot up.

Sirius sighed. "Yeah, that's the Black's line of ancestry. This was my childhood home."

Harry eyes widened as he looked at his Godfather.

"I had no idea."

"It's not something I enjoy talking about, if you know what I mean."

Harry blushed and started to shuffle his feet, suddenly finding the wooden floor much more interesting than the tapestry.

Sirius smiled slightly and hugged Harry to his side.

"What was it you wanted to talk about, pup?"

*~*SBRL*~*

"Did you see that? Did you see that, Moony?"

The werewolf laughed and hugged the excited Animagus tightly.

"Yes, I did see it, Padfoot," he chuckled.

Sirius had just managed to conjure a Patronus - a rather week one, but the silver mist had unmistakably been a Patronus.

"You did it!" He said, proudly looking into his best friend's eyes. "You did it! Now we just have to find an even more powerful memory to turn the mist into a corporal form and we're good to go."

Sirius' smile slipped from his face. Confused, Remus held him at arm's length and tried to gaze into his eyes which were currently looking at anything but him.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't do it," he mumbled dejectedly.

"What? Of course, you can!" Remus grabbed his arms tightly. "Of course you will manage the full Patronus! You did an amazing job so far and there isn't much that's missing. Look, we'll just have to find the right memory and -"

" _The right memory_? It took us - no, _me_ \- over a whole month to even conjure that bit of silver mist. How long do you think it will take me for a real corporal Patronus? I won't manage that in time! I won't be of any help to the Order. I can't protect myself, let alone any other one from even one Dementor. I'm not capable of feeling happiness anymore," his voice trembled slightly as he squirmed himself free of Remus' grip.

"I won't ever be able to. I thought I left it all behind me and got over Azkaban, but it seems that I was wrong in that case as well."

"Don't say that! With a little bit of time and practise -"

"How much time will I need, huh, Remus? It's been over a year now that I'm out of that shithole and what good did it bring me? I'm not able to cast even a slightly usable Patronus. What if my dream that someday Harry moves in with me after my innocence is made official becomes reality and Voldemort decides to hunt him down with a few Dementors? I won't be able to protect him! I am his Godfather and I am supposed to be able to protect him! I promised James that I would be there for his son and that I would do anything so that he isn't lonely or sad or in danger!"

He laughed bitterly as he started to walk to and fro in front of Remus who was watching him with sad eyes.

"I am a shame! What kind of Godfather am I if I can't even manage to protect him from a soul-sucking demon? My so called family couldn't conjure Patronuses either, but they had their reasons. Being a happy Death Eater conjuring a full Patronus in front of their master wasn't the choice to go for."

"Shut up!"

Sirius skidded to a halt. Remus stood not four meters away from him, literally boiling with rage. He gulped. He had never seen gentle and sweet Remus being so enraged.

"That's enough, do you hear me? Don't you fucking dare to compare yourself to that wretched family of yours!"

Sirius felt as if his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. Did Remus just swear?

"You are nothing like them, don't you get it? I thought James and I got it into your head two decades ago, but that obviously isn't the case. Your parents are cruel, soulless, emotionless people who don't deserve to call themselves your relatives! They have done things to you no one deserves to ever experience, especially not you!"

Blinking, Sirius took a hesitant step back as Remus marched up to him, only to flinch as his best friend wrapped his arms around his torso and hugged him so tightly that he feared he would end up in two pieces during the next three minutes.

A chill ran through him as he felt his warm, sweet breath at his ear, whispering.

"You are the most amazing person I have ever had the fortune to meet, Sirius Orion Black! I haven't forgotten that you were one of the three boys who accepted me as Remus and not as The Werewolf. You risked your life to help me during each and every transformation and thus helped to make each one slightly less painful. You have seen me at my worst and still didn't judge me for something that was out of my control.

I have seen so many people looking at me with disgust and fear because of what I am, but you, along with James, never were one of them."

Sniffling, he pressed his face into the crook of Sirius neck and smiled slightly as he felt Sirius' arms come up and hold him, pulling him deeper into the embrace.

"You are a wonderful person, so don't you ever claim anything different ever again. Do you hear me? _Ever_! It isn't your fault that the Patronus is a somewhat more difficult spell for you to re-master, but I tell you, we will re-master it! And I will help you with everything I can. Even if I have to clone some of my memories, curse you into forgetting that they aren't yours... I don't care. I will be here for you, Sirius. Just like you have been for me."

A tear ran over his red cheeks, wetting the skin beneath his face that smelled so wonderful. He hadn't known that Sirius could smell that amazing.

Sirius fought against his own tear. Something wet slit down his neck and he guessed that Remus was crying, but didn't say anything. He only held him more closely, never wanting to let go.

A few minutes later, after the tears had dried and the embrace was less desperate and more loving, they slowly moved apart. Sirius smiled as he looked into Remus face. His eyes were blood-shot, his cheeks blotchy and his nose slightly red. Nearly dried tear tracks marked his smooth skin where just moments ago, tears had wet his cheeks. He had never looked more beautiful.

Slowly, feeling a little bit hesitant, he reached for his cheeks, cupping one in the palm of his hand. The skin was warm and soft. Just like he had imagined it to feel like.

Remus smiled a teary smile. A blush crept up his cheeks, tainting them in a lovely pink shade.

"Don't ever underestimate yourself ever again, okay?" He whispered, leaning into Sirius' hand and closing his eyes.

Sirius' breath caught in his throat. "I won't," he didn't trust his voice. It would sure betray him, making it obvious that there were butterflies in his stomach, causing him to feel as if riding on a broom and making a neck-breaking dive.

Remus opened his eyes. The light brown sparkled in the dim light of the candles burning on the candle holders hanging on the walls around them.

He was so close. He could see every shade of the warm brown colours that made his eyes so special - so _Remus_.

His heart was pounding in his chest, in constant danger of jumping right out of the rib cage.

He nearly fainted as their lips met.

*~*SBRL*~*

"What is it?"

Remus' hand ran through Sirius' long hair, combing through it. It was soft beneath his skin.

Sirius smiled, wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him on his lab.

They were sitting in the library on an ancient couch near the fire. The kids, as well as Molly and Arthur were in bed, so they were alone and nobody would disturb their time together.

Sirius kissed Remus on his cheek und turned his gaze towards the flames that were flickering calmly in the hearth.

"I was thinking about Harry," he said, running his hand along Remus side. He shuddered.

"We have to tell him soon."

Remus nodded slowly and looked at his boyfriend sitting beside him. He opened his mouth to say something calming, as the flames began to hiss and Dumbledore's stressed face appeared among them.

"Remus, Sirius, Hogsmead is under attack."

*~*SBRL*~*

The habitants were screaming, the people who were visiting were running around, yelling, trying to pick up every single kid they came across and look for safety.

He felt them before he saw them.

Cold air brushed past his lips, down his throat, freezing his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He started to tremble, but he didn't know whether it was from the cold or just a conditioned reaction as he saw them floating down the street. Their ripped cloaks wafted around them as they made their way to the Order members who were apparating onto the street, freezing at the sight that greeted them.

He heard the desperate cries of the children that got lost in the hectic mass of people that were trying to save their lives.

And then he heard _him_.

"There are too many! What are you waiting for, Sirius! Help!"

He felt himself sucking in as much air as possible; he saw his hand gripping his wand move upwards and point towards the black hooded creatures that sucked every happy thing out of the innocent people in the village.

He closed his eyes and focused on his memories. He needed a happy one, a _powerful_ one and that's when Remus called his name again. And he felt it. The feeling of warmth, of being accepted and loved enveloped him and warmed his very being. And he knew that he could do it. He knew that he could save the person - _the people_ \- he loved.

Determined, he opened his eyes, focused his stare on the darkest species of magical creatures alive and yelled, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!  
> Until next time - see ya :D

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this one!  
> Until next time - see ya!


End file.
